[ He hissed, his head yanked back, and Silco's lips peeled back into a sharper smile.
There it is. Is it punishment, if the man enjoys it? The spike of violence sends his adrenaline spiking, and his eye narrows, sharpening as he looks at him. ]
Should you?
[ He asked, watching him. When he did this? Did he really not see it? That violence, that slithering beast he could draw out with a few choice words? He leaned forward — tried to — his hair keeps him back, but he strained against his grip. ]
[His grip doesn't let up - in fact, it almost becomes tighter, like he's half ready to go the full mile, yank back, and rip off the man's head from his neck like he's pulling a flower off a stem.]
[ His breath catches from the force of it, and this time he actually winces. It's violent, it very nearly threatens to tug him under a flood of memories that he keeps trying to drown — even though it's all he can do to not think about it — his eyes look hazy, unfocused,for a half second. It's terrible, it burns at his scalp, and flutters down his spine.
Heartbeat racing, he finally focused on him, his lips peeled back into something between a grimace and a smile. It's ugly, it's sharp, it wants him to think about it. He can feel the rush of violence just as much as he can see it in his face.
He never looks away from his eyes. ]
Understanding. [ There's strain in his voice, he says it with a hiss. ] Freedom. How can you choose what you want, if you can't even see all of the options?
[ Nails digging into his shoulder, slotted against him — they're still spent, and naked — it's more intimate, to speak of this like this. Like they're already both flayed open, without pretense. ]
[It's similar to before. It's different than before. Here they are, completely well entangled mind, body, and spirit.]
[Even here, the rush to ruin is mixed with a heady, confusing heat - unable to extricate himself from this need to fight, to fuck. Silco smiles so naughtily, and he wants to shove it down his throat.]
I don't want all the options.
[Because what does freedom give him? Happiness? Hardly not.]
Besides. You just want to put me in another cage.
[He bends forward, nose pressed against the other's jawline. His breath is hot, his free hand that splays over the other's back even more so.]
[ He asks, his voice is a slithering little thing. Insidious in the way it coils, asks the question, challenges him in that. He's still strained, but Vergilius's nose is against his jaw, and it's hot and warm, his body against him, hand on his back, breath tickling his skin.
He rails against him, but surges forward. It's violent, but Silco knows nothing but violence. What would something else get him? He would crush it into pieces before even getting here. Vergilius is strong, hard, and angry — oh yes, so angry. ]
I wouldn't cage you.
[ Voice low, a tickle of it against his ear. Is it a promise, or a lie? Does he even know himself? Is it a cage that he offers, even if he doesn't hold the key? Perhaps, more honestly... ] Do you think I could?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
There it is. Is it punishment, if the man enjoys it? The spike of violence sends his adrenaline spiking, and his eye narrows, sharpening as he looks at him. ]
Should you?
[ He asked, watching him. When he did this? Did he really not see it? That violence, that slithering beast he could draw out with a few choice words? He leaned forward — tried to — his hair keeps him back, but he strained against his grip. ]
I want you to see what I see.
no subject
[His grip doesn't let up - in fact, it almost becomes tighter, like he's half ready to go the full mile, yank back, and rip off the man's head from his neck like he's pulling a flower off a stem.]
What does it give me?
no subject
Heartbeat racing, he finally focused on him, his lips peeled back into something between a grimace and a smile. It's ugly, it's sharp, it wants him to think about it. He can feel the rush of violence just as much as he can see it in his face.
He never looks away from his eyes. ]
Understanding. [ There's strain in his voice, he says it with a hiss. ] Freedom. How can you choose what you want, if you can't even see all of the options?
[ Nails digging into his shoulder, slotted against him — they're still spent, and naked — it's more intimate, to speak of this like this. Like they're already both flayed open, without pretense. ]
no subject
[Even here, the rush to ruin is mixed with a heady, confusing heat - unable to extricate himself from this need to fight, to fuck. Silco smiles so naughtily, and he wants to shove it down his throat.]
I don't want all the options.
[Because what does freedom give him? Happiness? Hardly not.]
Besides. You just want to put me in another cage.
[He bends forward, nose pressed against the other's jawline. His breath is hot, his free hand that splays over the other's back even more so.]
no subject
[ He asks, his voice is a slithering little thing. Insidious in the way it coils, asks the question, challenges him in that. He's still strained, but Vergilius's nose is against his jaw, and it's hot and warm, his body against him, hand on his back, breath tickling his skin.
He rails against him, but surges forward. It's violent, but Silco knows nothing but violence. What would something else get him? He would crush it into pieces before even getting here. Vergilius is strong, hard, and angry — oh yes, so angry. ]
I wouldn't cage you.
[ Voice low, a tickle of it against his ear. Is it a promise, or a lie? Does he even know himself? Is it a cage that he offers, even if he doesn't hold the key? Perhaps, more honestly... ] Do you think I could?